


None of Us Is; or Else We All Are

by PuppiesRainbowsSadism



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, tw blood, tw depression, tw gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppiesRainbowsSadism/pseuds/PuppiesRainbowsSadism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s bad days have gotten a lot more frequent recently, and while a part of Cas wants to place all the blame and rage on Dean, he knows that Dean is not the only one at fault here.</p><p>Still, it’s hard to convince himself when he sees Sam like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	None of Us Is; or Else We All Are

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt ages ago: Sam feeling incredibly insecure because he's an "abomination" and Cas reassuring him.
> 
> Title taken from possibly my favourite poem in the world: "A Sad Child," by Margaret Atwood.

Sam’s bad days have gotten a lot more frequent recently, and while a part of Cas wants to place all the blame and rage on Dean, he knows that Dean is not the only one at fault here.

Still, it’s hard to convince himself when he sees Sam like this.

He’s just gotten back from a hunt, one that he insisted he do on his own, and Castiel is almost convinced that it’s some form of punishment that he inflicts on himself because he rarely comes back in one piece.

This time it’s a gash on his side — not too terribly deep, but it’s bleeding an awful lot and there’s a sizable flap of skin just hanging off his side, so it needs stitches. Sam waves Cas off at first, predictably, but Castiel thanks whoever’s listening that the injury is in a place too tricky for Sam to reach.

While Cas is stitching up his wound, Sam keeps his eyes firmly fixed to the floor, his head handing, and if the stitches didn’t require him to sit up straight, Cas knew he would be slouching as well. All the same, Sam managed to put off the air of a puppy kicked to the curb.

As soon as the stitches are tied off, Sam is on his feet, muttering “Thank you” and also “I’m sorry” as he almost runs back to his room. Castiel sighs, knowing that he has to follow Sam but not wanting to pursue him immediately. He doesn’t want Sam to feel chased — or more importantly, that he has to run from anything.

Cas doesn’t knock. He hates that he doesn’t, but he knows from experience that Sam won’t respond to it when he ‘s in this condition. So he pushes the door open gently and sees that Sam is just finishing up cleaning up the blood and is slipping a shirt on.

"Did the ghouls do that?"

"Barbed wire," Sam answeres curtly. Then, seemingly to himself:  "I can handle a small family of ghouls no problem, but it’s the barbed wire that will take me out. God, I’m so fucking pathetic."

Cas steps forward and grips Sam’s shoulders. Whether Sam is responsive to touch is more or less a hit or miss kind of thing, but until they find something that works consistently, Cas will stick to soft, hopefully soothing touches.

This time Sam flinches when Cas touches his skin, but he doesn’t move away. Rather, he steels himself as if expecting a blow.

"Something is wrong," Cas declares, because asking if something is wrong never leads anywhere. He has to get the problem out in the open if he can help try to fix it. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about," Sam deadpans, still refusing to look at Cas.

"Sam … "

"It’s all already been said."

"What has?"

Instead of answering, Sam sighs and asks a question of his own. “Cas … why are you even here?”

Out of everything that Sam could have asked, that was probably the question that Cas expects most. Of course this was about worth. Sam has always had a skewed perception on what he does and does not deserve.

"I’m here because you need me. And because I love you."

"How can you _possibly_ love someone like me?” Sam scoffs with a self-depreciating smile. “I mean, you said it yourself:  I’m an abomination.”

There it is. The guilt. The blame for Sam’s worsening mental state. It all falls on him now, and it’s the heaviest burden he had ever had to carry. “It was a mistake to say that.”

"I’m tainted and no matter what I do, some day I’m going to run off the rails and not even you will be able to bring me back."

"Sam, no — "

"It’s a given, Cas! It’s going to happen! Goddammit, I have _demon blood_ in me! I was _addicted_ to it and the power it gave me! And you … ” Sam’s voice softened considerably, his shoulders slumping in something like defeat, but what he had been fighting was anyone’s guess. “You’re here to clean me up and stitch my wounds and tell me that I’m _worth_ something. That I’m more than the evil that was thrust upon me or whatever because I do good things.”

"And that’s all true, Sam," Cas reassures, attempting to rest his hand on Sam’s cheek only for him to flinch away once again. "You are the kindest, most compassionate and selfless person I have ever met in my many millennia of life. Please, see yourself as I see you."

"I can’t," Sam whispers, and it sounds almost desperate. "I can’t. I don’t know how you can even bear to look at me. You’re an _angel_ , and I’m … I’m as far away from angelic as possible.”

Castiel was very well acquainted with the feeling of a broken heart. He has watched Sam jump into the Cage with Lucifer and Michael in tow; lived with the realisation that he brought back his love soulless, only to feel the flayed and fried soul that was replaced, like horror at his fingertips; broke Sam’s Wall and watched his sanity — and possibly his life — crumble in the instantaneous touch of fingertips; seen Sam — beautiful, precious, heroic Sam — reduced to a mere wisp of the man he once was, the man he should be, with Lucifer and visions of Hell at his bedside. So yes, he was very well aware of the feeling of his heart shattering in his chest. Hearing Sam voice his thoughts and fears for the first time in what felt like forever, even for him, encompassed that feeling nicely.

Cas feels his eyes burn, possibly with tears but that isn’t his main concern now. He grips Sam’s face forcefully, but not cruelly, between his hands, and when he sees Sam’s eyes glistening and watery, that’s the last straw for his restraint. He kisses Sam desperately, perhaps a bit too roughly but he wants Sam to see, wants him to know that he’s precious and beautiful and heroic and all the things Cas knows him to be.

"I love you," Cas breathes between kisses. "I love you so much. Please believe me."

"I do," Sam sighs, pushing Cas away so he can breathe. "I just don’t understand why. I don’t get it. How — ?"

"Sam," Cas starts, pressing close and resting his head on Sam’s shoulder. "Take how you see me and multiply it. That’s how I see you."

"But — "

"Don’t talk right now. Just listen. You don’t understand why I love you? I cannot even begin to fathom how someone as amazing as you even exists in this world, much less how you’ve come to care for me after everything I’ve done. Sam, you were born for sin but proved everyone wrong by becoming the best person anyone could possibly hope to be. I was created for good, but I ended up lying, deceiving, killing and destroying. I’ve had a crucial hand in the end of the world … what, three times now? Do you see how you are not by any means below me? You are so, so great, and I’m so destructive. Lowly. That I wonder how I could have possibly had the fortune to have caught your attention, to have shook your hand and shared our bed and stood beside you with the world against us. If anything, I don’t deserve a fraction of the love you have given me."

With a dry sob, Sam clutched at Cas desperately, refusing to let him go as he cried silently on his shoulder. He cried as if it pained him, as if he were leaving something behind forever and it was leaving a gaping hole in his heart. This wouldn’t fix everything, Cas knew. But maybe it was the start they needed.

When Cas turned his head to look at Sam, he was caught off guard by the lips that attacked his own, the teeth that nipped his lips and the tongue that soothes the bite. One of Sam’s hands was tangled in castiels hair, the other wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. Cas ran his fingers through Sam hair, scratching his scalp gently in an attempt to soothe. Tears still streaked Sam’s face continuously, but silently save for a few hitches in his breath. More often than not, Sam was a very open crier; so be so quiet must have been an effort.

"What do you need from me, Sam?" Castiel asked softly, gently stroking Sam’s face with the barest pressure of fingertips as the human attempted to calm his breathing, succeeding in only turning his sobs into gasps and coughs.

"You," Sam choked. "I just need you, Cas. Please. Any way you’ll have me. I just — "

"Shhh," Cas soothed. He moved them to the bed, allowing Sam to lay down first in order to hover over him with promise. Cas’s hands caressed Sam’s arms, chest, and stomach even as his eye never left Sam’s.

"Relax," Castiel whispered. He briefly considered slipping into one of the many languages that soothed Sam but quickly nixed the idea. Words were important here. "Does it feel good? To let everything go like this?"

Sam just nodded, raising his arms above his head in an effort to steady his breathing.

"You shouldn’t hold onto things like this, Sam. We could be on our way to resolution. You know I’m here for you; you know I will never judge you for feeling this way. Don’t hide your feelings from me anymore. Okay?"

Another nod.

"Good." Castiel leaned forward, letting his breath tickle the skin at Sam’s throat before placing a gentle, chaste kiss there. "I love you." He moved down Sam’s body, pushing his shirt up but not removing it, placing kisses as he went, each one punctuated with a praise or declaration of awe:  "You are beautiful." "You are precious." When Cas reached the recent wound on Sam’s side, he kissed it too with the utmost tenderness. Sam gasped anyway as Castiel’s lips pulled back with the barest hint of red.

"You are pure, Sam," he whispered, Sam’s blood on his lips seeming to glint in the low light, even though Sam knew it had to be his imagination. "You are pure, and I love you."

Sam pulled Cas back up, to hell with his stitches, and held him close. Their noes bumped almost painfully, but Cas didn’t care. Sam needed him to be as close as physically possible, and he was more than willing to indulge that.

"I love you too," Sam hiccuped after a stretch of silence. "Please, don’t ever stop loving me. It’s selfish to ask, but … "

Cas kissed Sam, their lips sliding together as perfectly as always, before settling into a more comfortable position. “I would be lost without you, Sam. I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
